


Metamorfóno

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Dying Sam Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hell Trauma, Hurt Dean Winchester, Kevin Tran Lives, M/M, Protective Castiel, Protective Charlie, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Sam Winchester's Hell Trials, Sick Sam Winchester, Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 14:19:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13859520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Metamorfóno:From Ancient Greek μεταμόρφωσις (metamórphōsis)Sam Winchester becomes the ultimate sacrifice to shut the gates of Hell, forevermore. But, what if instead of death... Sam is turned into the key? The only living being that can wield the power of hell and keep it locked away....Dean tries to save his brother from this damned fate but comes to learn that his brother may never be saved. Castiel takes on part of the blame for what's happened and tries to save his dear friend, with the help of the hip-hacker Charlie Bradbury and the prophet Kevin Tran.





	Metamorfóno

<img src=”http://fandomania.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/18/WreckedSam2.jpg" />

Sam Winchester exhaled sharply,” _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, hanc an imam redintegra, lustra._ ” He threw the book to the ground, raising the demon blade from his side as he let out a pained, ragged breath.

Sam closed his eyes, pressing the blade against his shaking palm as he slid it across. To Sam, the burning sensations of the purifying mystical energy coursing through his veins were a blessing. At least he was feeling something. But of course, like any indentation of feeling that came to him on these rare occasions of recent events, it gradually turned into nothingness, and he was numb again.

Sam had brought this upon himself. He alone had destroyed any chance of a common friendship between his brother that came to every living creature so naturally. It had happened so long ago that he sometimes forgot why he'd done it. He’s tried to blame the rift on everything(Mary Winchester, Azazel, Ruby…)but himself.

Sam’s hazel hues are red-rimmed and empty, almost as if; he knows that he will in fact die. With a soft rasp of air, he closes his eyes and puts his bloodied hand forward, a pulsing angelic glow surrounding the gaping wound. He opened his eyes and stared at the demon before him, the two’s eyes meet for the briefest moment-an acknowledgment of some sort-the gates of Hell would soon slam shut.  
Crowley resigned to his fate, could do nothing but simply stare back,”Sam….”

”SAMMY, STOP,” A voice bellowed from the doorway.

Startled, Sam turned to the owner his surprise clearly etched into his hollowed face. Then his teeth clenched as his gaze met that of his older brother and began to shake, the magic that pulsed through his entire body starting to buzz with a high. He crooked his head and gulped, and his blood thick and heady as a fine wine was ravaged by the sheer power.

”Easy there, okay,” Dean says softly, offering his hands in the air,”Just take it easy. We got a slight change of plan.”

Sam gulped again, and shook his head in confusion,”What? What’s going on?”

Dean takes a breath, slowly lowering hands,”Metatron lied,” He pointed at Sam, his green eyes taking a hardened glare,”You finish this trial, you’re dead, Sam.”

The younger Winchester’s eyes went wildly around the room, before he gulped again,”I know.”

”You... _knew_ ,” Dean snarls his eyes narrowing dangerously, ”What happened to,’The light at the end of the tunnel’, huh? I thought you wanted to survive it! I thought you wanted to live!”

Sam let out a wild and bitter laugh, his lips trembling around the sound. The very air seems to shudder and a chill creeps down Dean's spine. Sam ceases his almost maniacal laughter and says,”I saw it, Dean, I saw what would happen if I didn’t complete this trial. It ends ugly, and it ends badly, for both of us.” He looked up, closing his eyes for the briefest moment. ”The light at the end of the tunnel is gone, all I see is darkness.”

”But how did you,” Dean’s eyes widen in realization and his stomach lurches,”The hellhound blood, I should have known-Why didn’t you tell me, Sam?!”

The latter stared helplessly into his older brother’s eyes, his own starting to shine with tears,”If I had told me, you never would’ve let me start the trials in the first place, would you,” He shakes his head, tears starting to fall down his hollowed cheeks,”How about this, do you want to become a knight of hell, Dean? Want your own shiny pair of azure eyes?”

”Sam, I-”

”I lived it every night. I felt it. It happened,” Sam says, a hectic light in his eyes as his hands clenched and unclenched into fists. ”I have to end this, now, or everyone else will pay for it, Dean! You’ve given up everything for me and it’s time someone put you first, for once in your life.”

Dean’s own eyes started to water as he pleaded,”D-don’t do this, Sam! Please-Sammy, I can’t just sit here and let you die, I’m supposed to protect you, damn it! I’m supposed to protect my pain-in-the-ass little brother!”

Sam smiled softly, his tears starting to slow,”I’m sorry, Dean,” He pressed his bleeding palm against the demon’s cold, chapped lips,” Kah nuh ahm dahr.”

The pillar of light erupts with a volcanic force from the demon, pitching the two men forward in an unbearable wave of heat and rubble that cracks their skin, rattles their heart, and snatches their breath away. The world fades into blistering white.

The chaos freezes like a gasped breath held in waiting lungs. Scorching heat becomes crystal, a wall of snow that hangs in the air like fog. All Dean feels are pins and needles, and he's floating, listlessly drifting in an endless sea of static. It's like startling awake from one nightmare and into another. His body half-numb with a brain full of molasses, awareness sinks its teeth deep into his arm and drags him like a savage dog into the swirling confusion of semi-consciousness.

”Sam,” Dean moans, dragging himself forward,”Sammy! SAMMY!”

”D’hn,” A voice moans weakly at his side.

Laughter burbles in Dean’s chest from a well of pure, sick relief and panic. From the very second it starts, it doesn't feel right. There's no humor or happiness in it, but it bangs its way out of his throat like gravel. The older Winchester laughs so deliriously his eyes overflow with tears once again.

”Sammy!” His body is still numb as he bolts upright with the grace of a poorly-strung marionette. His body screams at him in protest, making him stifle one of his own, his vision going dark around the edges.

"Dean, please! You must lie back,” A voice hisses in exhaustion.

But he can't. He's wild-eyed and completely out of his senses, still half-blind and deaf from the blast. There's nothing to laugh about. A hand presses against his chest, slamming him onto the floor as a tingling sensation spread in tendrils across his body, easing the pain.

”Cas,” Dean chokes out, blinking past his tears,”Sammy , is he…?”

Castiel’s face was grim,”Dean, he is but-“

Then he heard it. That hadn't been a scream of fear, it was more like a pain-stricken wail. It reverberated through the Church’s foundations, sending shockwaves like tangible anguish through the wooden structure, passing over them and down into the darkness of the bottom floors, dying into nothing. Sam.

“Dean,” Castiel chokes out,”I don’t know what’s happening to him.”

Sam writhed on the floor, his arms flared with the mythical energy as he curled into a tight ball. His breaths came out in choking rasps as he inhaled and exhaled frantically. His heart beat uncontrollably fast, fluttering away like a frightened little bird in his chest. His tan skin seemed to nearly glow with heat as his body temperature climbed rapidly, yet his lips tinged with blue as of he were freezing.

”Sammy,” Dean roars, gripping his brother by the jacket as he pulled him forward. The other man’s feverish skin burns like hot iron around him, his grip on his arms grinding the bones together, but he held him closer nonetheless. ”Cas, please, get us back to the bunker. We have to do something! NOW!”

……

”

Don't scream,” Castiel’s voice whispered in the distance.

The pain flared white hot, radiating out to Sam Winchester’s whole body. When he felt himself being hauled back onto his knees, the mystical power driving down for another attack, he blacked out. And he woke up on a stifling hot bed, sweat cascading down his shivering body in waves.

Shivering, drawing in shuddering breaths, Sam lay still for several seconds, several minutes. His whole body felt like heavy ice. He tried to move his arm, tried to lift his hand. Nothing. The light above him was so bright, so bright that his eyes stung. It was a struggle to blink. The room was still blazing even behind his eyelids. He panted for breath, so tired that lying still took every ounce of energy.

Slowly the room came more into focus. The blur faded into shapes and shadows. And lines on the floor. They were faint, but he could make out faint black lines radiating outward. Cement, grey in a room of cement walls. And dark splashes all around him. The copper smell in the room was thick, cloying. He could taste blood in the back of his throat simply from the smell, and when he tried to push himself up—

”Sam, do not move,” A voice warned softly. Castiel.

Sam looks up at the voice, his eyes glassy and delirious with fever. His pink lips part ever so slightly as he gawks at the angel before him,”Castiel,” His eyes begin to fill with tears as he raises a shaking hand, still glowing with the mythical energy, extending it toward the space around the angel’s shoulder blades. ”I can see them… Your wings.”

The wings of the angelic creature arced high above its gracious head of brown hair. They were made of long, nimble feathers that would make even the mightiest birds of prey turn green with envy. They were whiter than a soft colored cloud on a bleating summers day, so white that a pure glow seemed to emit from them.

This white glow emanated over Sam’s pale, hollowed face,”’For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways. On their hands, they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.’” His widened eyes slowly slackened and he fell limp on the bed.

”Sam,” Castiel chokes out, his steel-blue eyes wide in stunned silence as he stood almost catatonic.

Dean, having just arrived stood in shocked silence at the doorway. After a minute he spoke,”What. The. _Fuck_?”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
